Supernatural Kink Meme Shorter Fills
by whithertits
Summary: Short fills from LJ's kinkmemes.  PWP.  Ch1: Castiel/Dean breathplay, Ch2: Sam/Dean anal beads. Update: Ch3: John in Sam's Body, Dean doesn't know.
1. The One Where Castiel Uses His Tie

Warning: breathplay

Castiel kisses with his eyes open. Dean doesn't like to admit to what they're doing, and keeps his eyes closed.

That's why they end up like this.

"Dean," Castiel says, and pushes forward into the heat of Dean's body. Dean grunts, but is otherwise quiet, ducking his head down. Castiel doesn't need to see his face to know he is biting his lip.

Castiel starts to thrust, angling his hips to provide Dean the highest possible level of pleasure. Dean will not allow himself to be touched, at a time like this. His shame, guilt and self loathing for daring to take even this small level of relief are too great to accept a gentle hand, and Castiel doesn't know how to be rough with something so breakable.

Dean has, on occasion, shouted some suggestions at him. Those shouting matches are why Castiel has left his clothes on, only undoing his pants before slicking Dean open and making a place for himself inside.

Castiel knows Dean Winchester from the inside out. He built Dean's body from nothing, and left his own mark on Dean's skin as a reminder to them both of his effort. He knows what Dean wants, and even more importantly, what Dean need s.

Castiel doesn't know how to be rough with Dean, but he is learning, because roughness is the only sort of comfort Dean will accept.

A hitching breath goes through Dean, the first sound he has made since Castiel appeared to him. Castiel loosens his tie, letting the cheap material slide through his fingers. Dean lets out a long, low moan when Castiel slips the length around his throat, his entire body shaking. His channel, wrapped around Castiel's length, ripples, the sphincter spasming around him.

Castiel is careful as he knots the tie around Dean's neck. He is careful, making sure the knot is clean, that it will only tighten when he wants, will release with the right touch. He does not stop thrusting into Dean as he works, and Dean has started to thrust back into the motion, leaning down into the faint pressure of the tie against his throat.

Castiel leans down over the length of Dean's back, pressing his forehead into the damp skin at the back of Dean's neck. He can taste the salt of Dean's sweat, the skin of him, and beneath that, the faintest hint of despair leaking from his soul.

Castiel raises up, and tightens his hand around the long length of the tie. He pulls, gently, until the knot is snug against the side of Dean's throat. He rests his hand against the hollow of Dean's spine, steadying, and pulls.

Dean's breath falters, the sound of air through the constricted passageway of his throat loud compared to the wet, slick sounds of their flesh coming together. Dean keens, and pulls forward, deliberately trying to tighten the knot.

"Don't fight, Dean," Castiel says, brushing his fingers around the edge of his mark on Dean's flesh. Dean cries out, and almost falls forward. Castiel adjusts his grip on Dean's shoulder, shuddering at the sudden connection, the pleasure/pain/desolation leaking through. He wonders what Dean feels from him, in these moments. The punched out, exhausted puffs of breath Dean struggles to make past the tie let him believe Dean finds pleasure in the joining.

"Cas," Dean rasps out, desperate, and Castiel tightens the knot further, cutting off Dean's air completely. He keeps the length taut, even as he moves his hand from Dean's scar, down to the pulsing length of Dean's cock. He ignores it, instead grips Dean's testicles tight. He rubs the tip of his thumb along the root of Dean's cock, letting his nail catch on the loose skin.

"Come, Dean," he whispers into the dark, and Dean does. No sound escapes past the tie at his throat, but his body convulses, arching away from Castiel enough that Castiel's cock slips out of him, slapping wet against his belly.

Dean collapses, eyes closed , and Castiel is careful to loosen the knots at his throat and make sure Dean is still breathing.

With the withdrawal of the tie, Dean curls in on himself.

Dean does not cry. He will not allow himself that luxury.

Castiel aches with the pain he cannot relieve.


	2. The One With The Anal Beads

Warnings: toys, D/s

The first bead was small and went in easy. Dean's hole sucked it up tight, winking at the intrusion. The second was larger but still slid in easy- no wider than Sam's index finger, blue silicone a bright contrast against Dean's pink hole.

The third and fourth beads had Dean breathing heavy and clenching his hands on the bathroom counter. His face, in the mirror, was flushed, lashes swept dark against his cheekbones.

The fifth bead was where they started getting big- each over an inch in diameter, with the ninth, last ball just over two inches all across. Number six took a bit of pressure and Dean let out a long, low moan when it popped past the rim of his asshole. Number seven didn't want to go in- Dean's channel was stuffed full already, almost out of room. Sam was just going to have to make some more for himself.

Sam pressed the bead into Dean's body, keeping the pressure up until the tight ring of Dean's hole made it past the midway point and closed around the sphere. The other beads had been sucked up inside of Dean at this point, invisible but for the silicone thread linking them all. Number seven was drawn in, but didn't disappear- Dean's hole tried to close around it and failed, leaving a small curve of blue visible within his ass. If the ball had been any smaller, it would have popped back out again.

Dean's hole spread wider around his fingers when he pushed the ball further in until Dean's sphincter was clenched on his fingers, the ball pressed past the tight ring of muscle and nestled inside with the others, tight and snug.

The eighth bead, forced flush against Dean's entrance by the seventh's passage, was wide- wider than Sam's cock and that was saying something. Sam reapplied a bit of lube to the ring of Dean's ass; it was relaxed to the touch, either stretched by Sam's attentions or exhausted after being forced to open repeatedly.

Sam smiled and started to push the wide ball inside. "We're almost at the last one, Dean." Sam kissed Dean's knee, conveniently close. "Touch yourself- it'll make this easier."

Dean's eyes were locked on Sam, on what Sam was doing between his legs. He brought his right hand up, shaky, and took hold of his cock, jerking it with rough, fast motions. He slowed at a sharp look from Sam, reluctant.

"Can't have you coming too soon," Sam said, more to himself than to Dean. He kept the pressure strong on the bead and frowned when Dean's ass opened but wouldn't take the ball, no matter how he twisted it. He let up on the pressure and started thrusting the bead in, rocking it in to ease Dean's body into opening up further.

The bead sank in, almost to the half-way point, and out again- Dean's rim spread open , then shrank again every time the bead withdrew, obscene little squelching sounds accompanying the motion. When he added an extra bit of force, the ball sank in- and out again when Dean's body clamped down, cock spurting all over his hand.

Sam drew back. "That was unexpected," he said, raising his eyes at Dean.

Dean panted above him, looking rumpled, freshly fucked. "Yeah," he breathed out. His ass winked open and closed, the last shudders of orgasm rocking his body.

"I didn't give you permission to come," he pointed out. Sam took hold of the ring at the end of the beads and tugged. He enjoyed the sight of Dean's ass bulging out, the rim too tight to give up what it had taken in at the light pressure.

"'Didn't mean to come, Sammy," Dean muttered and gasped at the pressure on his over-stimulated prostate.

"That's no excuse, Dean- you should have told me you were close." With a strong, firm pull, Sam pulled the remaining beads out of Dean's body. He offered them to Dean to clean, pleased when Dean sucked the first of the beads into his mouth.

"We'll have to start again," Sam said, eyes intent on Dean- on his brother licking up the taste of his own ass. "And you won't be allowed to touch your cock until I can trust you to be honest with me."

A stream of Sam's come oozed out from Dean's ass, from where Sam had stretched him out before.

It was going to be a long day.


	3. The One Where John Is In Sam's Body

John had never felt a particular attachment to his body. It was a tool, his first and best weapon against the darkness that dogged their family.

It should have been easy, entering his son's body. Sam's body was taller than his, thin and wiry and fast. They shared blood. It should have been like handling a new weapon: strange but familiar.

It wasn't. Sam's body felt caged in, too big for his own skin. John couldn't help but think it was the taint of Yellow Eyes' blood—infecting his boy, making his body reject his father on every possible level.

John knew Dean's body would have been welcoming, like slipping on a well-loved pair of gloves. Dean was his boy.

His too-pretty, slut of a boy. It should have come as a shock, but it didn't, when he opened his eyes after a wave of vertigo to the sight of Dean's head being pounded into the headboard as he thrust an aching, too large cock into his eldest's ass.

"Sam, fuck, don't stop," Dean panted, twisting around to stare at John with bright eyes, green as Mary's used to be when she was just about to come.

John's stomach roiled. Whether it was curling tight with arousal, or clamping down on nausea, he couldn't tell, but his hips drew back and pushed back in, slow, as though of their own volition. As though Sam's body couldn't help but fuck his brother.

"You close, baby?" comes out of John's mouth, unbidden. He realises his hand is wrapped around his boy's cock, wet with the slick Dean's cock has obviously pumped out while Sam had been fucking him. "Your pussy's so fuckin' wet, boy."

"'m not a girl, Sammy, fuck you." John can feel a slow grin spread out over his face, the first familiar thing this body's let him feel. He's settling into it, the fog he'd first felt weighing down his limbs evaporating out through his pores, leaving his skin tingling, bright with heat wherever his skin pressed into Dean's.

"You're whatever I say you are, boy," John said, knowing the truth down to his bones, down to Sam's bones. "Your sweet little cunt's desperate for my come, practically starving. Don't you think?" He twisted his hips sharply and smirked when Dean couldn't help but let out a sharp, broken cry.

On the bedside table, Dean's phone started to vibrate. John slanted a look at the screen, and let his breath hitch when he saw the bright letters spelling out DAD.

He was in Sam's body—only stood to reason that Sam got swapped into his and was desperate to get hold of Dean. Sam probably wanted to make sure Dean wasn't dealing with their father having a freak out about find them _In flagrante_. Probably thought Dean was getting his ass whupped even as his hole dribbled out lube and maybe come.

"That's Dad calling, Dean," he grit out, feeling inspired. He jerked his son's cock softly, just a tease. "Probably wants to talk about a hunt. Think I should pick up, tell him his son's too busy spreading his legs to come to the phone?"

"That's sick, Sammy," Dean laughed, breathless. He arched his back off the bed, fucking up into John's fist and down onto his cock, eyelids heavy.

"Mmm, but you like it, don't you? Like the thought of Dad knowing. What do you think he'd do?" He jerked forward hard, fucking his (son's) cock, so big, into Dean's prostate, easy as torching a corpse. "Think he'd freak out? Or do you think he'd want a piece of you for himself?"

"Dad wouldn't do that, Sammy, you sick fuck," Dean laughed and reached up to tangle his fingers in John's (Sam's) too-long hair, pulling himself up for a kiss.

His boy's lips were soft, big like he'd been kissing all day, and he kissed like John was his everything. Kissed like Mary kissed John on their wedding day.

John kept fucking Dean, trading filth and laughter with his son, and came to the sound of Dean's phone vibrating off the table.


End file.
